


Bringing him home

by Inamoena



Series: Barefoot and pregnant [2]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Headmaster Severus Snape, M/M, Post-War, Pre-Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-31
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-07-11 09:30:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,540
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7042522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Inamoena/pseuds/Inamoena
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"I am <em> not</em> going to England." Severus said adamantly.<br/>Potter grinned brightly.<br/>"Then I'll just have to carry you." he said and proceeded to do just that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I just had to write this. Don't own anything and making no money. But having lots of fun :)

Severus cried out at the feelings of abandonment, aloneness and _longing_ welling up in his chest. He sat up in his bed, breathing harshly and covered in sweat. The waves of emotional pain almost hurt physically. Severus watched the clock on the bedside table.  
2.17 am.  
Severus groaned and let himself fall back into the cushions. It was much to early to rise, but he didn't think he could fall asleep again.  
That was probably one of the weirdest dreams he'd had in a while. He tried to recollect what it was about. He remembered walking through the castle halls, passing children on his way to ... somewhere. It was obvious he'd dreamed of Hogwarts, but those kids' faces didn't ring a bell. Which was strange, Severus never forgot a face. Severus frowned and turned on his side, mentally walking through the collection of students he'd taught. Apparently, the little pests made a great soporific, because five minutes later, Severus was sleeping again.  
And didn't notice the pair of huge eyes watching him from behind the window curtains.

It was almost two days later, while weeding the garden, that he felt The Itch. It had been years, three to be exact, that he'd last felt The Itch. The You're-Being-Watched-With-Evil-Intentions-Itch. Paying attention to that itch had saved his life many times, so Severus kneeled into the flowerbed he was weeding and surreptitiously glanced around. Nothing. Severus frowned and kept weeding absentmindedly, most of his attention on his surroundings.

"Just hand me the oil, would you?" Severus said impatiently.  
The sales-girl looked at him with a hurt expression on her face but handed him both the oil and the rest of his purchases readily enough.  
Severus felt a small stab of guilt, but brushed it aside and walked out of the shop. It had been three days, and Severus felt like he'd gone mad. The Itch kept him company day and night, but he never saw a reason for it. He'd even dug out his wand from where he'd locked it away. He was exhausted and irritated and couldn't wait to be home. He'd almost reached his front porch, when he more felt than saw movement behind him. He tried to turn around, but was hit by the stunner, before he could finish the movement.  
"Shit," he said, and his world went dark.

"I know you're awake." A deep masculine voice said.  
Severus stopped pretending to be still under the influence of the stunner and looked around. He was lying on his own couch, with his attacker sitting quite relaxed on a chair in front of him.  
The boy, no definitely a man, in front of him was quit handsome and broad shouldered, wearing a pair of dark blue jeans and a t-shirt that left not much to the imagination. His dark hair curled wildly around his ears, making Severus' fingers itch with a sudden need to stroke it.  
"Potter," Severus meant to say it like a swear word, but form some reason it left his throat like a breathy moan.  
Severus' face flushed in embarrassment.  
Potter grinned, his too green eyes dancing in his tanned face.  
"Hello Headmaster," Potter said cheerfully and leaned to the left to make a cup of tea. "Tea?"  
Severus blinked, just now noticing the full spread cluttering the table in front of him. A tea service including sandwiches and pastries. A flowery tea service _he didn't own._  
"Where did that come from?" he asked while trying to sit up. His hands were bound in front him with plastic zip ties, apparently reinforced with magic.  
Severus futilely tried to use his wandless magic to loosen them, "and could you untie me?" he asked, quite politely, considering the fact Potter had attacked him and invaded his house.  
"From Hogwarts of course," Potter answered, "and no. Not after all the trouble we went through trying to capture you unawares."  
Against better judgement, Severus felt intrigued by the elaborate scheming. And pissed off at being treated like some wild animal.  
"And why exactly, did you feel the need to _capture me unawares?_ " For someone who had to look up at Potter (and when did that happen?) he managed quite well to look down his nose at the annoying pest.  
Potter flashed him another grin and handed him a cup of tea.  
"Drink this Headmaster, it will make you feel better."  
Severus didn't want to feel better. He wanted answers. Nevertheless, he put the cup at his lips and took a sip.  
Potters eyes followed his movements like a hawk.  
Severus licked his lips, the tea _was_ quite good. Potters complete attention on his movements made him squirm uncomfortable.  
"Well?" he almost barked to break the tension.

Potters face took on an earnest expression.  
"I'm afraid I have some bad news," he said, taking the cup out of Severus hands and setting it on the table, "A week ago, Headmistress Minerva Mcgonnagall died in her sleep."  
Severus gasped, he felt like he'd been hit with a hammer. Mcgonnagall was a fixture in his life. She was there when he'd entered the wizarding world at age eleven, and had been the last person he saw when he'd left it three years ago. He wasn't friends with the woman, but he'd respected her.  
"How?" Severus had to clear his throat from the lump that had formed, before he could ask the question.  
"Her heart gave out. Poppy said it happened quickly. The war has put to much strain on her."  
Potter patted his arm in comfort.  
And when exactly had the menace managed to lay his hands on him? Severus' sadness drained away to be replaced by anger. He brushed Potter's hand off.  
"And you needed three days of stalking me, attacking me and tying me up to be able to deliver this news?" he asked harshly, "What's wrong with the post-owl service?"  
"You can't send an owl to someone who is dead." Potter answered unperturbed and poured himself another cup of tea, "quite a clever bit of magic that. Only it doesn't fool house-elves. Certainly not Hogwarts' house-elves."  
Potter paused to take a sip.  
"And I needed to tie you up to make sure you wouldn't bolt after delivering another bit of news." Here Potter looked him square in the eyes, " _Headmaster._ "  
"Shit." Severus said.  
"Quite. But I'd try to clean up the language," Potter said drily, "Impressionable young minds and all that."  
"No. No way! I've left all that behind three years ago. I like my life here just fine thank you."  
"I'm afraid you don't have much of a choice. Hogwarts is very persistent."  
"Hogwarts can kiss my..." Potter clapped a hand over Severus' mouth.  
"Hush, Headmaster, no need to become vulgar." Potter almost purred.  
Severus scowled and jerked his head back.  
"The British wizarding world believes me to be dead. It is better that way, there is too much resentment and anger. I'll be target practice for every witch or wizard with a grudge."  
"After the temper tantrum Hogwarts threw when the Board wanted to appoint a new Headmaster, the ministry knows you're alive." Potter answered patiently, "and don't worry your pretty head, we'll protect you, Headmaster." Potter said sunnily.  
Severus scowled some more. Pretty, bah! The nerve of that man!  
"Who's we?"  
"The house-elves, Hogwarts, and me of course," Potter paused a moment and grinned again, "your Defense against the Dark Arts teacher, and Defense Master of Hogwarts."  
Severus dropped his head despairingly in his still bound hands.  
"Ready to go Headmaster?" Potter stood up decisively.  
"No. I. Am. Not. Going. To. Britain." Severus said adamantly and emphasized this statement by trying to hit Potter's face with his bound hands. Who ducked, of course. Still grinning.  
"Then I'll just have to carry you." He said brightly, and proceeded to do just that.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “…looks in order. Enjoy your honeymoon, mr. Potter, and again, congratulations. Give our best wishes to the new mr. Potter.” A burly, thickly-accented voice said.

“…looks in order. Enjoy your honeymoon, mr. Potter, and again, congratulations. Give our best wishes to the new mr. Potter.” A burly, thickly-accented voice said.  
‘Honeymoon?’ Severus thought fuzzily.  
He groaned a bit.  
He felt someone grabbing his hand and stroking it.  
“Shhh, darling, go back to sleep.” That was definitly Potter’s voice.  
Severus slept.

His head hurt. It was a throbbing pain, just behind his eyes. As if he was hung over, or rather, as if the grandmother of hangovers was coming by for a visit, and apparently, staying for a long chat. He felt weak as a kitten, and his mouth tasted like something furry had died in it.  
Severus opened his eyes.  
And closed them immediately. 

The throbbing in his head had magnified tenfold with the light hitting his eyes. Strange, he couldn’t remember overindulging last night. In fact, the last thing he remembered was…  
“Potter!” Severus almost yelled, sitting up rather quickly.  
And lying back down again as quickly, groaning and hoping his stomach would stay _inside_.  
“I recommend staying horizontal, Headmaster,” the strong, masculine, annoying voice said amusedly. “I had no idea you had such bad reactions to a stunner.”  
“I don’t have bad reactions to a stunner, Potter,” Severus spat out petulantly, and winced at the pain. “I have bad reactions to a series of stunners. How many times did you hit me?” he wispered almost plaintively, weakly lifting a hand to rub his eyes.

His hand was grabbed by a strong callused one and gently forced back down. That’s when he noticed his hands were unbound.  
“Don’t try to rub your eyes, Headmaster, it would probably just make it worse. And to answer your question: five. And even then you almost woke while we were traversing the border of Germany and again when crossing the Channel. You’re quite stubborn aren’t you?”  
Ha- no _Potter_ chuckled softly. “Don’t worry, we’re almost at Hogwarts, the elves will have you properly medicated and resting in no time.”

Now that he was a bit more awake, Severus could feel he was lying on a bedlike structure that was gently swaying. It was almost soothing.  
Severus tried opening his eyes again. The stab of pain was expected this time and he managed to have a quick peek around before firmly closing his eyes.  
The carriages was big, and contained all the luxuries one could need on a long trip. It reminded Severus a bit of the Muggles royal train carriages he’d once seen in a museum. He was lying on a chaise longue, with in front of it two elegant Queen Anne chairs and a matching table. Next to those was a dressoir and doors to other rooms. There was also a window, which clearly showed a somber cloudridden English sky peeking through lacey curtains. The color scheme was a very feminine crème, light blue and gold.

“Potter?” Severus asked almost fearfully.  
“Yes, Headmaster?”  
“Do I remember correctly someone congratulating you with your marriage?”  
“…”  
“Really, Potter? That was the best lie you could come up with?” Severus asked exasperated.  
“It was the easiest way to get you here without a lot of people noticing. It would be a bit awkward to be arrested by a foreign ministry for carrying around, and obviously kidnapping, a living dead war hero.” Potter’s amused voice explained.  
“Didn’t anyone ask who I was?” Severus asked.  
“Of course they did, I just said you were the new mr. Potter. They didn’t dare ask any further, I was _obviously_ trying to keep a low profile.” Potter answered loftily.  
“The aurors guarding the border point in Germany and France were more than happy to leave my obviously exhausted new spouse sleeping of his….activities.” Severus could hear the lewd grin in that comment. He tried to glare without opening his eyes.

“Would you like some water?” Potter asked.  
Now that Potter mentioned it, Severus felt he was parched. He tried to sit up, but almost immediately had to end his struggles and suppress a whimper.  
“I’m sorry Headmaster, I don’t have any headache potion on me.” A clearly repentant Potter said.  
“An obvious flaw in your otherwise flawless plan to get me here,” Severus meant to say this derisively, but it left his mouth in a pained whisper. He felt hands gently lifting his head and a glass was held against his lips. Severus drank greedily.  
The hands helped him lying back down. 

Severus sighed again. There was no point in trying to escape now. Not when they were so close to Hogwarts, and certainly not while he was weak as a kitten. Not to mention his head. Severus frowned a bit.  
“Potter, did you pack my belongings? I had headache potions in the medicine cabinet in the kitchen.” He asked.  
Potter, cleared his throat a bit self-conscious. “No. I called some of the house-elves and had them pack your things.”  
Severus tried to glare again, this time with his eyes open, but quickly had to abort the attempt.  
“Right now, I really, _really_ hate you Potter, and it has nothing to do with you dragging me back to Hogwarts and everything wit you _not planning ahead_.” Severus ground out through his teeth, quietly, so as not to aggravate his headache.  
“…Sorry?” came a small voice, “Next time, I’ll make sure to plan for the aftereffects of multiple stunners.”  
“Planning on doing this again, Potter?” Severus asked maliciously, “Any other dead war heroes you need to drag home by their figurative hair?”

Potter didn’t answer the obvious sneer. Severus could hear him moving back into his chair and the rustling of paper. Severus bit his lip. No way was he going to lie here quietly while Potter read the paper.  
“How the hell did you get dragged into bringing me home, anyway?” he asked. The rustling of the paper immediately stopped. Potter cleared his throat.  
“Well, I was volunteered.” He answered quietly.  
“You _were_ volunteered?” Severus asked unbelieving, “By whom?”  
“Your castle, its house-elves, its staff, probably the bloody acromantula’s if they could speak.” Potter said wryly. “They were quite insistent I had to go and bring you back, so I did.”  
Severus sighed again, and stayed silent for a moment.

“Potter,” he said after a while.  
“Yes?”  
“How are you going to explain the fact that the whole of Europe thinks you’re married? Because it will be published in the paper, sooner or later.”  
“I’m not. “ Potter said, “Going to explain that is. I’ll just leave everybody speculating.” Apparently even Potter knew how weak that sounded, and his voice trailed of.  
It was his turn to sigh.  
“They’ll start digging, won’t they,” he said resignedly.  
“With you being Europe’s favorite bachelor? Of course they will.” Severus said, “They’ll hound you, and follow you around until you make a mistake and then the whole kidnapping thing will be in all European papers and gossip magazines. _‘Man-who-lived kidnaps dead war hero’_. How’ll that look on your résumé?” Severus said amusedly.  
Potter stayed silent for a moment.  
“I don’t suppose you’ll marry me?” Potter asked almost plaintively.  
“No!” Severus answered maliciously, “this was your idea, find your own way out of it.”  
Oh, he was _so_ going to enjoy Potter’s predicament. It almost made up for the indignity of travelling home in a flying boudoir posing as Potters spouse.  
Severus closed his eyes and tried not to let a smile steal over his face.


End file.
